


Desires In The Darkness || Hannigram

by MurderDaddies (BiersacksKitten)



Category: Fannibal, Hannibal (TV), Hannibal - Fandom
Genre: Anal, Anal Sex, Blood, Blood and Gore, BoyxBoy, Canon, Choking Kink, Clarice is after the Murder Husbands, Death, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fanfic, Fanfiction, Fluff and Smut, Gay, Gay Sex, Gore, Grab your face and go 'oh goodness!', Hannigram - Freeform, Horror, I am emotional as hell over season three's ending, I need Geesus and holy water, I'm Going to Hell, I'm still salty over Beverly, Kinks, Kinky, LGBT, LGBTQ, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Morbid, Murder, Murder Husbands, Nightmares, Plot Twists, Post-Fall, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Post-Fall Fic, Romance, Serial Killer, Sex, Shameless Smut, She Deserved Better, Smut, Smut Sprinkles, Suspense, They Flip, Thriller, Violence, Wendigo, bxb - Freeform, cannibal, domestic hannigram, girlxgirl, gory, gxg, i said what i said, killer, let Hannigram be murdery and happy together, murders, post-season
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-07-14 17:15:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16044971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiersacksKitten/pseuds/MurderDaddies
Summary: Will had changed Hannibal as no other had ever or would ever do. He made him love again like Hannibal never thought possible. Now, he couldn't imagine a life without Will, without the love of his life being by his side while he cooked, hunted, enjoyed the little things that gave him pleasure. Will made it all that much more pleasurable by just being there. Drinking in the sight of him, breathing in his -earthy and bitter, yet sweet and crisp- scent, knowing Will was just Will and that he existed gave Hannibal life, had become his life in full.Hannibal would never hurt him -not as he had before- and they were past lying to each other now. He'd gladly give Will anything, do anything for him, and if he wanted to leave -it would break his heart- he would even be willing to let him go without any argument, because if that is what Will wants, then that is what shall be.Indeed he had changed him. Maybe, in the end, Will would be Hannibal's downfall and maybe that's just okay.~~~⊰♥⊱~~~The fall off the cliff wasn't the end of Will and Hannibal's story. It was just the beginning.~~~⊰♥⊱~~~The continuation after season 3





	1. Desires In The Darkness || Chapter One

 

~~~⊰♥⊱~~~

**'This is my design.'**

_Ding dong, the dragon is dead._

_They had killed him, together. It is a sanguinary scene, their own blood, and The Dragon's blood cakes them and the ground around them. They are both injured, but ignore the pain coursing through them._

_Will holds his hand out in front of him, he looks at the blood covering him in wonder before his gaze shifts towards Hannibal, "It really does look black in the moonlight," his voice slightly strained, he affirms what Hannibal had told him once. He lets out a stuttered breath -still down on one knee, his other hand on the ground supporting himself up- he lets his head fall slightly forward and holds out the same hand he was looking at just a moment before for Hannibal to take._

_Grabbing Will by his wrist and lower arm tightly Hannibal helps him up, Will staggers into Hannibal's hold._

_Their breathing is labored and loud. Hannibal grasps a handful of the front of Will's bloodsoaked shirt, his other hand gently on Will's side. A small distance between, Hannibal locks eyes with Will -a rare feat when it comes to Will- and softly says,_ _"See? This is all I ever wanted for you, Will." He pauses a moment and turns his head and gaze from Will slightly, more in the direction of Dolarhyde. Will's eyes fall to Hannibal's chest. Hannibal's gaze shifts downward. They are so close the heat of their hot breath warms the space between them, both feeling it against their faces, "For both of us."_   

_Will's gaze rises back to Hannibal's face, his heavy breathing gets slightly louder, a sound resembling a laugh leaves his mouth as a small -tooth showing- smile creeps across his lips,_ _"It's beautiful," Will says quietly, the utter honesty dripping from his voice. He finally embraces his true self just as Hannibal had desired for him to do for so long. And he finally sees the beauty in the death, the beauty Hannibal sees. Seeing it as beautiful was something he had feared for so long, he had always been terrified he would become just like Hannibal. But when this moment came, he embraced it so easily._

_They are slightly closer now, Hannibal's eyes softly search Will's bloody face as he gives a small nod to avowal what Will said._

_Will raises his hand to Hannibal's shoulder, he lets it rest against his shoulder for a second before gathering some material of his bloodstained shirt in his fist for a better hold._

_Will slowly brings his head to nestle against Hannibal's other shoulder and into his neck, in one smooth motion, Hannibal rests his head against Will's. Will brings his head down a little further to completely rest against Hannibal's chest gently, Hannibal can feel Will's soft chocolate curls under his chin. He breaths in Will's scent mixed with the metallic smell of The Dragon's blood._

_Hannibal's heartbeat is peaceful to Will, it makes him feel easy._ _Hannibal holds Will close, but they're loving embrace is short lived._ _Will grips Hannibal tighter and Hannibal does the same. He moves his hand from Hannibal's shoulder to wrap it around his neck, his palm now on Hannibal's back._

_Bedelia's words; "You can't live with him. You can't live without him." Echo through Will's mind._

_The police will soon swarm the house, it won't take long for Jack to find his way there. They had already been there several hours and if Will knows Jack -which he does- it's only a matter of time before they trace the carnage left along the roadside to this place. And even if they get away now, they will always be hunted. Always. That thought coupled with the final string of Will's old self -the self that would be disgusted by what he had become- tells him he can't allow them to live as killers. If he doesn't stop them now, he will never be able to stop them. Never want to stop them. That sole string is bound to soon snap and all that will be left is the new Will._

_Will only sees one thing to do. One out._

_Hannibal knows what he's doing and he lets Will do it. He lets Will fall off the cliff with him in his arms. Just as they go over, Hannibal wraps his arm around Will, holding him tightly around his mid-back, he even tangles his legs with Will's to make sure they will stay together as they fall._

_A pair of broken bodies hurdling into the writhing sea below. In the end, maybe this was more Hannibal's design than Will's._

~~~⊰♥⊱~~~

In Hannibal's mind, love had always been the weakest emotions known to man -that one emotion has been the downfall of many, entire civilizations even crumbled under it- one he thought he would never fall prey too. So you can bet that it came as more than a surprise to him when he could no longer deny his love for Will to himself. 

At times it was hard for him to imagine a life without Will, other times he had almost ended Will's life himself. He knows he'll never be able to explain to Will the things he did to him and he will never try. He did what his nature had demanded him to, and for that, he will never try to explain his reasons why.

He doesn't regret what he's done, He's grateful he didn't end Will's life as he intended to do before Mason got them and he's grateful things ended up falling into place as they did. Every moment before led to Will's becoming, led to his acceptance of his true self and that is what Hannibal had desired for him all along. He never wanted to make Will anything he wasn't, certainly not, he was only trying to unleash Will's true nature. As he wanted everyone to embrace their true nature, their true selves, the sides of themselves even they are afraid to see and acknowledge.

Even before he realized he loved Will, it was never Hannibal's intention to be cruel to him, never his aim to hurt him. Hannibal did -in short- what he felt he needed to do under the situations he was given. His curiosity led to almost being caught, so give the police someone else to look at, he didn't anticipate how much he'd miss Will and just how far he'd go to get him back.

When Will betrayed him -which both hurt him deeply and made him hate himself for allowing Will to deceive him- he took Abigail away for good. Hannibal punished him, even at the expense of his own hurt. He did love Abigail like a father would love a daughter. That does bring him a tinge of bitter regret every now and then, yet, he knows if he had to do it again, he would do everything the same.

Right then Hannibal vowes that if they live through this he would never hurt Will like that again, no matter if he leaves him, no matter if he wants to turn him in, no matter what he does. Hannibal no longer holds that ability to hurt Will he once possessed. As his love for him grew, that ability was slowly choked out, and now its dead never to rear its ugly head.

Hannibal nuzzles into Will's neck against his dark curls holding him tighter than he ever had before as they plummet to the freezing water below. It emerges them and the force of the fall tries to tear them apart but Hannibal simply refuses to let go and he won't allow God himself to pry Will from his strong hold.

Smacking the water actually stings for both of them, but more so for Will as three of his ribs crack on impact. They are still sinking and Hannibal can hardly make out Will's form in the darkness. Will's eyes flutter closed defeatedly.

At this moment, Hannibal decides he isn't ready for Will or himself to die just yet. Grabbing ahold of Will he struggles to pull them both to the surface. Once he breaches the surface of the water, he takes a deep breath and he's careful to make sure he holds Will's head above the water. It will be quite a feat to get both himself and Will to the shore only being able to use one arm and he is injured. He grunts as he pulls him across the surface of the water toward the bank with him. The current isn't terribly strong although almost every stroke threatens to use all of Hannibal's remaining strength.

His injuries are taking a toll on him, his muscles ache with every movement. The frigid water stings against his skin and it's more than cumbersome to haul Will's deadweight across the unforgiving body of water.

Will had been rendered unconscious and shows no signs of stirring awake anytime soon.

Every moment is a battle between life and death but Hannibal manages to get himself and Will across the short distance -although it felt like a very long distance- to the shore through the frigid water.

Bone-tired and sore from head to toe, he lays Will down gently on his back, before bending over and bracing his hands against his knees. Hannibal is breathing very deeply, struggling for every breath, trying to catch up with his exhausted and labored lungs that had been robbed of all air in the moments in the water. He ignores the pain rippling through his body, the aches tearing at his muscles, and focuses his mind on Will. His threshold for pain had always been high, but this sort of pain was hard to overlook. Still, his mind is strong and he's determined, so he shrugs away the pain.

He taps Will's cheek roughly with the end of his fingers, he grips the front of Will's shirt in a tight fist, when he doesn't get a stir he checks Will's pulse and much to his dismay, he finds none.

"Will," Hannibal says gruffly. A tinge of an unfamiliar feeling to him sets in. Panic. Now, he doesn't let it show at all or consume him because he doesn't even want to admit to himself what he's feeling. His mind races as worry sets in deeply, causing even his bones to ache and his teeth to hurt with it. Keeping his composure, Hannibal begins to put all his medical experience into play. He doesn't want to lose Will now, not ever. The thought hurts much more deeply that he cares to admit, the bitter taste of grief already dancing over his tongue making his mouth dry with regret and pain. Hannibal hasn't felt pain like this for years, not since Mischa's death.

Lacing his fingers Hannibal begins chest compressions. Will's cold, wet body is absent of any response. He opens Will's mouth to unblock his airway. And after a few seconds of repeated chest compressions, he brings his mouth to Will's and starts mouth to mouth. The salty taste on Will's lips fills his mouth and mixes with the bitter flavor of dejection. He repeats this a couple more times before Will begins coughing. He shoots straight up, still sitting, but doubled over. He chokes and gags at the same time. Slowly he throws up a little water at a time until his coughing ceases.

Sorrow -he wouldn't admit- eases from Hannibal's shoulders as he looks at Will. Hannibal watches him intently, still bent over next to him. His own aches now more present in the front of his mind he lets the tenseness of worry lift slightly from him. 

God, how he despises that weakness that Will causes him to feel. That love he inspires within. That bloom of caring for anyone but himself. He's hasn't felt this weak, this unsure of himself, before. Ever. And he hates it. It feels like his heart has started to beat the rhythm of Will and that makes him weaker than he's ever been. He feels sick to his stomach and that can mean only one thing.

No matter how hard Will tries he can't focus his eyes nor his attention. Everything looks and feels fuzzy. His wounds cause both dull and sharps aches to cover his chilled to the bone body. He feels like he's been thrown into a washer and left to tumble for a few hours.

"You probably have a mild concussion, Will," Hannibal comments noticing the odd wonder and confusion filling Will's jittery eyes. He scoops him up in his arms like he was merely a light ragdoll, his head rests against Hannibal's chest. Immediately his body tenses, he lips part slowly as he tries to speak, but Hannibal interrupts, -as much as he hates being rude, he doesn't want Will to use his energy in talking- "Shush, Will, I've got you. Just relax."

Will's own scent, the scent of the water, and the scent of blood fills Hannibal's nostrils as he cradles Will. It's no picnic to carry an injured man when you're injured yourself but Hannibal would rather be skinned on the spot than leave Will behind. Will's wet hair falls over his forehead, every now and then his soaked curls brush against the bottom of Hannibal's chin.

Will's bright blue and green eyes met Hannibal's deep rich brown ones, he tries his damnedest to focus on them, before simply nodding and laying his head once again against Hannibal's chest softly. The tension leaves his body, showing his trust in Hannibal. He mumbles -more noise than words- as he wraps one of his arms limply around Hannibal's neck.

~~~⊰♥⊱~~~

**Word Count || 2,281  
Character Count || 12,440  
Reading Level || 9th - 10th Grade**


	2. Desires In The Darkness || Chapter Two

Hannibal manages to get them both to the road. He sits Will down gently on the roadside so he can step out slightly when he sees a car. He waves every time a car passes, -which isn't too often considering the location- pain shooting through his muscles with every movement, and after twenty minutes, it all pays off when a car finally stops and pulls off of the road slightly, just in front of Will and Hannibal.

Thank goodness it's dark -hiding an injured Will and the blood that drenches Hannibal's clothes and covers his body- else maybe they wouldn't have stopped to pick up a bloody, injured stranger and his equally bloody companion.

The stranger rolls down his window and Hannibal walks up to it. The man's eyes practically pop out of his head when he gets a good look at him. "What happen-

Hannibal reaches through the window, grasping the surprised man by his hair, he slams his head into the steering wheel three times in quick succession before pulling the door open and dragging the man out of his car.

The man is disorientated from the blows, he was caught off guard and he never stood a chance. Hannibal bends his leg and slams the man's throat against it with all his strength, crushing his windpipe. The man makes hissing, gasping, sickly starving for air sounds as Hannibal lets him fall to the ground. A gurgling sound fills the air, as the man chokes. Hannibal bends over and grabs hold of each side of his face before quickly jerking his head to the side. With a loud crack, the man's neck breaks putting an end to his suffering.

He can't afford a witness.

Hannibal leaves the man lie there while he opens the car's back door, on the passenger side and goes to retrieve Will. Handling him as carefully and as tenderly as he can -like a flower, he's afraid to crush- Hannibal lays Will down on the back seat. Will's head falls limply to the side causing a stir of worry to spike in Hannibal briefly before his eyes fall to Will's gently rising and falling chest.

Mentally, he breathes a sigh of relief. He turns his attention to the dead man, walking up to him, Hannibal notices the man's eyes are open -the terror clear in them, even if the light of life is gone- in a frozen look of horror.

Hannibal bends over, rolls the dead man on his stomach, and lifts the body grasping under his arms. The man is short, but slightly overweight, making Hannibal's task quite arduous. Hannibal drags him to the trunk of his own car, before opening it and throwing him in with a grunt.

~~~⊰♥⊱~~~

Hannibal takes Will to another of the houses he procured under a false name. It was smaller than the house on the cliff but had everything they would need; A medical bag with all the things Hannibal would need to fix Will and himself up with, some non-perishable food -which will have to do for now, although it's not to his usual tastes- and even electric as Hannibal had a generator there awaiting such an occasion that it would be needed.

Will has yet to stir awake again, but his breathing is normal, and he's relatively stable, giving Hannibal no reason to worry as extensively as he had earlier.

The body in the trunk will not be fit for anything but to dispose of by the time he finishes working on Will's and his own wounds -which is the priority- but Hannibal decides to push that thought aside for now and focus on the task before him.

~~~⊰♥⊱~~~

The next few hours are a relative blur for Will. He only remembers a quarter of what he is awake for. What he does remember came in flashes. He saw Hannibal stitch up some of his wounds. He woke up at another time to see Hannibal softly wiping away the blood off of his body with a warm rag.

Once, Will even swore he felt Hannibal's hand on his own, but he couldn't open his eyes to see if it was indeed the case.

When he fully awakes it is to Hannibal calling his name in that calm tone of his.

"It seems that neither of us will die," Hannibal laughs slightly making Will shift in the bed in a sort of uncomfortable nonbelief. A sharp pain or two hits him as he moves -Hannibal had given him something to dull the pain, but it didn't completely rid him of it- feeling like something akin to a needle being pricked into his flesh.

"Why-" he swallows, his throat feels raw, almost like a cheese grater had been used on it, "Did you save me?"

"I think you know the answer, Will." His eyes meet Will's and Hannibal takes note of the softness in his gaze, "It's the same thing we keep coming back to; We're friends. And as intolerably painful as it is for me to admit, you are a weakness for me." He purses his lips before looking away from Will's gaze and to the floor.

Will doesn't know exactly how to respond or if he even should. His head feels so foggy he can't think about it concisely -as he should in a situation like this- so he chooses the latter of his options and remains closed-lip. His eyes fall to Hannibal, he scrutinizes him, observing the -unusual show of- emotion bleeding through his posture. He takes notice of the bandages and stitches on Hannibal's body, then -adverting his eyes back to himself- his own.

Before Will even realizes it he slips back into a deep sleep.

~~~⊰♥⊱~~~

_Will is engulfed by coal-black water, it's rising, covering him until he descends into it and it completely submerges him. As he sinks further and further down into it the almost thick feeling water, it feels like it's squeezing the very air from his lungs, like a press threatening to crush him under its pressure._

_Then he sees 'The Dragon' just out of his reach -odd how clear the scene before him is for how dark the water is- he has Hannibal laying before him, injured and bloody, the same scene from the house on the cliff. Only now, Will is powerless to help; He can't move or even advert his eyes. It's as if he is glued in his position._

_Dolarhyde readies himself for his work ahead. Will can't take it any longer, his breathing stops, his throat burns, and he finally lets out a raspy scream._

He wakes up breathing heavily and drenched with sweat, he feels frozen to his very core although he continues to sweat buckets, his soaked shirt clings to his chilled flesh. This isn't anything new to him, what is new to him, is Hannibal reaching over him to brush his damp hair out his face with his fingertips. The way Hannibal is looking at Will is in a way he had never seen before; It is so uncharacteristically emotional, it drips with a softness Will didn't think Hannibal could possess, a gentle love filled gaze.

At first, Will pulls back instinctively from Hannibal's touch -still a bit on edge from his nightmare- then he allows it. "I have to know- I need to hear it from you, are you in love with me, Hannibal?" He doesn't want to look Hannibal in the eyes, he can't bring himself to do it. He fears the answer for some reason, although Will is already certain of what the answer will be, he needs to hear it from Hannibal's lips, needs to have him affirm it to him.

"Will," he holds his hand against Will's cheek, cupping it gently, he knows to do this almost forces Will to look him in the eyes. Hannibal leans forward like he is going to kiss him, at least that's what Will thought he was planning to do until he quickly turns his head away from him like a pilot quickly changing course. Maybe it is the glint of insecurity that flared up in Will's eyes that discourages Hannibal. After all, this wouldn't be the first time Will sent mixed messages and he doesn't want to jeopardize what their relationship  _is_  for what it  _could_ be.

Without hesitation, and even to his own shock, Will pulls Hannibal to him in a rough kiss.

Up until this very moment; Every touch or hold had been platonic -in nature, not necessarily in emotion- a fleeting touch here or there with a million unsaid words and meanings behind each one. 

As their lips meld together Will's mind entertains the thought that maybe he's dreaming.

But he knows he isn't asleep.

~~~⊰♥⊱~~~

A few days passed and they had yet to talk about their kiss. They had talked very little during that time at all. Hannibal only seemed to pop into Will's room when he brought him food, checked how his wounds were getting along in their healing, and to wake Will from his nightmares. He spoke very little while he would be there with Will and never about their past.

Will -for his part- never made an effort to open any discussion about what happened between them. In truth; He was hesitant about asking Hannibal  _anything_. He avoided eye contact and tried to hide his confused emotions from Hannibal.

Will lays there in the quiet darkness of his room his thoughts swirling around in his head like a blizzard making a slight ache arise in it and a light queasiness fills his stomach. His heart pounds in his chest like a caged animal desperate to burst free from its confines, his breath catches in his lungs making the uneasy ache he feels increase. 

A light wind causes small branches to brush against the closed window opposite of the bed, soft scratching noises ring out, the only noise in the room beside his gentle breaths. 

He grasps at the sheet covering him, twisting a small portion of it in his fingers, his nails scraping across the cool, smooth silk surface. He moves his limbs restlessly, the soft bed's embrace feeling more like a chokehold than a comfort to him at this point. The bed once felt like heaven underneath him, but now he was discontent with laying there alone in the dark and it began to feel like hell and he resented the dependency it had started to foster in him.

The pain of his wounds has yet to completely fade, but it no longer bothers him. In addition; The shots Hannibal gave him made it one of the furthest things from his mind. He slowly pulls the lower half of his body into a sitting position at the head of the bed before tossing the sheet to the side. The cold air hit his bare legs -as he was only in a t-shirt and boxers- making him shiver slightly before he adjusts to it. He swings his legs over the bedside, closes his eyes for a second, takes a breath, and heads for the door.

He hesitates to open the door as his fingers take hold of the cold nob, his stomach begins to fill with knots of unsurety making that queasiness rise up again.

Absentmindedly biting the inside of his cheek, he pulls open the door quickly, a cool whoosh of air hitting him as he did. He stands there a moment, his muscles feel stiff and refuse to cooperate with his desire to move forward. His anxious gaze falls to the dark wood floor and shakily follows the white baseboard running along the hallway wall.

After a few seconds of self-convincing he manages to make his legs take steps; Small, slow, careful ones at first, but as he approaches the opening to the living room at the hall's end, his pace picks up in vigor and his unease fades slightly.

The only light in the room comes from the fireplace in which Hannibal is seated on the floor -a glass of white wine in hand- in front of. Will quickly glances over the tastefully furnished room, taking it in for the first time as he had only left his bedroom to go into the adjoining bathroom during the time he'd been there. Nervousness entangles itself in Will's spine making him tense as his eyes fall to Hannibal.

Hannibal senses Will's presence the instant he enters the room, he could smell his bittersweet timber scent immediately, although he fails to acknowledge it as he waits for Will to speak first.

"Hannibal," the name falls from Will's lips tenderly, his tone just above a hushed whisper.

"Will," he replies, a bit of emotion leaks through his tone and he hates how easily he lets it do so when it comes to Will, "How are you feeling?" His eyes meet Will's for the first time in days making his heart stir -like only Will can- in a way that makes him loathe himself for falling so deep under whatever spell Will has on him. Will's gaze only serves to remind Hannibal how weak he inadvertently makes him.

When his eyes fall lower to Will's lips, he feels a want to claim those lips that runs so deep it nearly makes him quake with desire. He wonders if Will regrets their kiss the other night. He wonders if Will feels the same desire he does or if it's disgust Will feels when he thinks about it. Hannibal runs the tip of his tongue over the seam of his lip as he both remembers and savors the taste of Will's lips. 

He is resolute in his decision he had already made two days prior; If they were to share another kiss -or something  _more_ \- Will would have to be the one to initiate it. He doesn't want Will to feel pressured to do something with him just because he makes the first move, so he would wait for Will. Although he burns with a carnal desire for Will, he doesn't  _need_ that from him. Even if Will wanted to keep their relationship platonic from here out, Hannibal would be happy with that. Just as long as he could be with Will, he needs him in a way that makes him detest himself. That inability to shake his love and emotional attachment to Will makes him weak. In nearly every sense of the word; He is  _consumed_ by Will.

"I feel fine, Hannibal," he draws closer to Hannibal, his eyes lock on the shadows of the flames dancing across his face, his mind raced with a thousand questions seconds before, now all he cares about is whether Hannibal too felt ate up with a desire so deep it made your bones vibrate with its ardent need.

Will fidgets with his fingers, arms dangling at his side before raising one hand to the back of his neck, he rubs it gently, grasping for words in his -apparently- extinct vocabulary. "And you?" he asks, genuinely concerned as he sits down opposite of Hannibal, his movements are uncoordinated in a way only becoming to him.

A prickle of self-consciousness dances across Will's flesh as he notes Hannibal's attentive gaze, more love than lust resting in his dark eyes. Will hadn't failed to notice how Hannibal was letting emotion bleed through his usually indifferent and callous nature, this only made his heart race more than it already was.

"I'm quite well," Hannibal replies almost dismissive of his own well being, again shifting his attention to the younger man. "Would you care for a drink, Will?" Hannibal asks politely, motioning to the wine bottle and the extra glass that sits next to it on the small wood table just a few feet away with his own glass.

Hannibal's voice pulls Will from thoughts better suited to the bedroom, "Oh," he glances at the bottle breaking away from Hannibal's face, "No, thank you," he replies, his voice has an unintentional quiver to it. Their close proximities make Will's cheek flush as his mind once again slips to thoughts of their kiss. "Hannibal," he clears his throat in an attempt to push down the lump that is forming near his Adam's apple, "I need clarity."

Hannibal takes a sip of his drink, the wine washing over his taste buds, he could already see where Will was heading.

"We love each other," Will says finally, "Don't we." This was a statement rather than a question.

  ~~~⊰♥⊱~~~  

_A/N: I hope you're enjoying it so far._

_Leave me some comments? I'd love to hear your thoughts._

_~xoxo, Hayley_

   ~~~⊰♥⊱~~~  

 **Word Count || 2,736  
Character Count || 14,758  
** **Reading Level || 9th - 10th Grade**


End file.
